


Can I help?

by days_of_storm



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: 221B Ficlet, Established Relationship, Horny John Watson, M/M, Vignette, exhausted consulting detectives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2019-12-07 00:45:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 2,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18227633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/days_of_storm/pseuds/days_of_storm
Summary: I don't have time to write these days but I missed these two ... so, here is a 221b of the teasing kinda sort.Possibly a sequel will follow, but maybe not.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have time to write these days but I missed these two ... so, here is a 221b of the teasing kinda sort.  
> Possibly a sequel will follow, but maybe not.

Sherlock came home, slammed the door closed, walked straight to the couch and dropped down on it. The grunt that followed his face hitting the leather told John that maybe Sherlock had meant to soften the fall, but that he had forgotten that he needed his arms for that.

“That bad?” he asked quietly from his chair, not yet ready to put down the paper. Sherlock might be in a rotten mood and he wanted to see if it might be safer to stay where he was. Nevertheless, the way Sherlock lay splayed across the couch made his fingers itch to pet his hair, take his coat and jacket off and rub his back to make him feel better. 

Sherlock turned his head, looking exhausted and a little sheepish. He finally pulled up a cushion to support his head. 

“Nothing. Not a single clue. No little old ladies watching the streets, no CCTV cameras to fall back on. For all I know the thief is invisible!”

“Can I help?” John carefully put down the paper. 

“When you say help …” Sherlock squinted at him and John shrugged with a smile. 

“What can I do?” John asked after Sherlock didn’t continue.

Sherlock’s face relaxed and he sighed. “Surprise me,” he finally answered, and John felt a spark of heat settle in his belly.


	2. Chapter Two

John smiled at Sherlock without moving otherwise until he could see Sherlock react physically to not knowing what he was going to do. Once he squirmed a little, pressing his hips subtly into the couch, he got up and took two steps towards him. 

Sherlock’s whole body tensed. “Maybe,” John kept his voice low so that Sherlock would have to strain his ears to hear him. “You just did not concentrate enough.”

Sherlock frowned and opened his mouth, only to close it again. He seemed unsure whether John was being serious or whether his words were part of the foreplay. 

“Maybe you were thinking of coming home all along,” he added, using his foot to push the coffee table out of the way. Sherlock’s eyes widened and then fixed on John’s crotch. John grinned and rubbed his palm across the bulge in his jeans. “Maybe you were hoping to find me here, waiting for you. Wanting you.”

Sherlock’s hips had started to move rhythmically against the couch and John smirked. 

“What are you doing?”

The movement stopped and John went down to his knees in front of the couch, not touching Sherlock yet, but being close enough to reach any body part he might have wanted. 

Unasked, Sherlock lifted his hips, putting distance between his erection and the couch. 

“That’s better.”


	3. Chapter Three

John reached out and pulled the coat off Sherlock’s shoulders, bending his arms back just a little too far for comfort. Yet Sherlock did not protest. John carefully placed it across the coffee table before standing up again to look at Sherlock. After a moment of apparent resistance, Sherlock opened the buttons of his jacket and John pulled that off, too. 

“The shirt, too?” Sherlock asked quietly. 

“Hmm, no,” John decided and knelt down next to the couch. He reached out to press his hand between Sherlock’s shoulder blades and then stroked down, squeezing his arse before moving back up to push his hand into Sherlock’s curls. He leaned closer to bite at his ear lobe, smiling at the gasp it caused.

When his fingers closed around a fistful of hair, Sherlock’s grunted. One hand slipped between his body and the sofa leather and John allowed him a moment of relief before he pulled at his hair, making him cry out. 

“Do not dare to touch yourself now,” John hissed. 

A shudder ran through Sherlock’s body and John knew he was working into the right direction. He let go of Sherlock’s hair again and ran his hand down to the small of his back again, his fingers slipping under his waistband to pull out his shirt. 

“Go on, open your belt.”


	4. Chapter Four

Sherlock did as he was told and lifted his hips so John could pull the belt out of the loops of his trousers. When Sherlock settled down again, his hands at his sides, John bit his lip. He had never tied Sherlock up before, and he wasn’t sure whether he should ask beforehand. When Sherlock’s hips began to move again, he decided to see how Sherlock would react.

He carefully took his left hand and placed it against the small of his back. Then he did the same to his right hand, placing it on top of the other. When he loosely wrapped the belt around his wrists, Sherlock went stock still. 

“‘that okay?” John asked quietly. 

For a moment, Sherlock didn’t respond. Then he pushed his arms further back, offering up his hands to him. “Yes.”

John exhaled shakily, trying to pretend that he wasn’t extremely excited by this turn of events.

“Good,” he finally said and tightened the belt. If Sherlock wanted to, he could easily pull out of the loops, but in the way he had bound him, he could still pretend that he was helpless, pulling sideways and being met with unrelenting, soft leather. 

He allowed himself some time to calm down, standing over the couch and watching Sherlock lie there, helpless and turned on and beautiful.


	5. Chapter Five

He rubbed his hands together for warmth for a moment, not wanting Sherlock to be uncomfortable. Then he pushed his shirt up all the way to his shoulder blades and pressed his hands down, squeezing the air out of his lungs. A few seconds later he relieved the pressure and Sherlock inhaled deeply. 

Then he began massaging his back, slowly moving down, enjoying the sighs that escaped Sherlock. When he reached his bound hands, he pushed them up, gaining access to the small of his back and kneading his muscles with one hand. 

When he pushed down again, Sherlock grunted loudly. 

“What are we going to do about your trousers?” John asked, slipping one hand under his waist band to squeeze a buttock. 

Sherlock didn’t answer. 

“Hmm, you are letting me choose?” John chuckled and dropped Sherlock's bound hands so he had both of his own at his disposal. He reached around and opened Sherlock’s trousers with some difficulty before pulling them down to his knees. 

“This can’t be comfortable,” he commented as he squeezed Sherlock’s buttocks through his soft underwear. “Do you want to sit up?”

“Too exhausted,” Sherlock shook his head but lifted his arse again, inviting John’s touch and allowing access to his erection. 

John pressed a kiss to his arse, unbelievably excited, but pretending to be blasé.


	6. Chapter Six

“Give me a second,” John pulled off his jeans and underwear before rushing into the bedroom to retrieve the lube. 

Sherlock hadn’t moved and for a moment John feared that he had fallen asleep and that he would be stuck with a painful erection, having to take care of himself when he would much rather have Sherlock be part of his relief. 

Yet, when he stepped closer to the sofa, Sherlock arched his back just that little bit to let him know that he was, in fact, still waiting for him. 

John smiled and squeezed out a generous amount of lube onto his palm. Then he started spreading it out at the tip of Sherlock’s fingers, making sure that he could feel him before he touched him properly, and then flattened his hand, pushing between his buttocks, slicking up his balls and finally taking hold of his erection.

The noise Sherlock made was simultaneously desperate and satisfied and it made John harder still. So he stroked him a few times before pulling back and wiping the rest of the lube off his hand on Sherlock’s buttocks. 

“Are you going to fuck me, John?” Sherlock asked, his voice low and needy. 

John smiled. He hadn’t planned on it, but if Sherlock wanted him to fuck him, he would absolutely do his best.


	7. Chapter Seven

“Fuck you, hmm?” John breathed, slipping his index finger into him. Sherlock grunted and then exhaled noisily. A moment later John could slip all the way in. 

“More?” Sherlock suggested, sounding both hopeful and afraid that John might not do him the favour. It made John reconsider for a moment before he pulled out again and tried two fingers. 

They hadn’t made love in a while and he knew that Sherlock would need some time to relax, but to have him bound on the couch, arse in the air and all but begging to be made love to was a special situation that demanded special treatment. He twisted his fingers, making Sherlock push up harder, giving him room to take hold of his cock. When he did, Sherlock shouted with surprise and John had to keep himself from giggling. Sherlock was absolutely willing to go where he would take him and he wouldn’t spoil it by giggling just then. 

He focused on stretching him open while keeping him on the edge by alternating proper strokes with feather light touches. He leaked pre-come and John rubbed it across his head, humming with satisfaction. 

“You’re so wet,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to Sherlock’s hip. 

Sherlock, who had hidden his face in the cushion, turned his head. He looked wrecked. Wrecked and beautiful.


	8. Chapter Eights

“Please!” he asked, breathlessly, and John smiled and let go of him, kneeling down to very gently kiss him. Sherlock’s eyes fluttered closed and he sighed when John moved away again. 

“What if I just leave you like this?” John asked, very quietly, smiling brightly. 

Sherlock’s eyes opened and went wide and his entire body stiffened as if he was just a second away from freeing himself from his constraints and jump at John. Then he inhaled shakily and chewed on his lower lip for a moment before he sighed again. “Still better than not solving the case.”

John grinned. “Forget the case.”

“I wish I could.”

“No, you don’t. It excites you that you are so lost.”

“Not like you excite me,” Sherlock’s sombre expression gave way to a smile. 

John knew he was turned on and had followed him into the playful mind-set, but he seemed to mean it and it knocked John sideways. For a moment, all he could do was look at Sherlock, his flushed face, his strong, gorgeous body, helplessly bound on the sofa, his to do with as he pleased. 

“John?” he finally asked, looking slightly worried and John leaned forward again, kissing him hard this time, moaning into the kiss, smearing lube across Sherlock’s cheek. 

Sherlock was surprised but he happily kissed him back.


	9. Chapter Nine

“Touch me again, please?” Sherlock asked when John sat back on his heels. 

John huffed and kissed him again briefly before rising and looking down on him. Sherlock was a wet dream come true and John did not want it to be over yet. At the same time he knew that Sherlock would grow impatient soon and force his hand. 

“Can I take a picture?” John asked breathlessly.

“Not with your phone,” Sherlock smiled. “Nothing that can accidentally end up on the internet.”

“I’d get someone to paint you like this if there was time.”

“Take my old camera. There’s still some film left, I think. It’s down there in the book shelf. Just don’t get lube on it.” 

John wiped his hands on his discarded jeans and hastened to find it. After checking that it still had a few photos left, he came to stand above Sherlock, waiting for his hands to stop shaking. 

Sherlock chuckled and arched his back a little more, straining a little more against the belt. “Do it!” he ordered, sounding clearly like he was enjoying the situation very much. “Come on, John! What are you waiting for? Hmm?”

“Fuck!” John whispered, shaking his head. Then he put up the camera, found the perfect angle, and forced himself to exhale before he pressed down the button.


	10. Chapter Ten

John’s finger found the advance lever to move the film forward and used up all of the remaining film in the camera. While Sherlock had at first hidden his face, he had turned his head again when John had continued to take photos and the final three had been just of his face, pressed against the cushion, his hair falling into his eyes. 

When the lever refused to move further, indicating that the film was full, John carefully set the camera down on the coffee table. 

“Are you still alright?” he asked Sherlock, who started to move his hands a little, clearly to get his blood flowing again. 

“I don’t mind this,” Sherlock tightened his shoulders a little further. “But as I said, I would really like it if you would touch me again.”

John picked up the lube and dribbled some more across Sherlock’s arse before pressing his index finger into him. 

“More!” Sherlock drawled against the cushion. 

John happily obliged. He was just building a rhythm when Sherlock’s phone rang from the floor, where it had fallen out of his jacket pocket. For one second, neither of them moved, but then Sherlock began straining against the belt and John leaned down to pick it up with a grin. 

“John!”

“I’ve got it, don’t worry! Greg, how have you been?”


	11. Chapter Eleven

“Sherlock isn’t here are the moment,” John lied, pushing his two fingers back into him and beginning to move rhythmically as he listened to Greg’s small talk. 

“Do you have any news on the case?” he dared to ask even as Sherlock shuddered under him. He tried to concentrate on what Lestrade was saying, but all he really noticed was Sherlock fighting with himself. He knew that any new information would probably lead to him solving the case, but for that, he would have to pull out his hands from the belt and admit that he wasn’t really as helpless as both of them had been pretending. 

John wondered whether he would be crossing a line if he held the phone to Sherlock’s ear while continuing to fuck him with his fingers. He almost moaned. 

“I’ll tell him to call you as soon as he’s back,” he promised Lestrade before saying his good byes and putting the phone down. 

Sherlock groaned loudly, both in frustration and pent up arousal. “Fuck. John!”

“Hmm?” 

“Do it now before I change my mind.”

“You were serious?”

“Yes, Christ. Do it! Please!”

John swallowed hard as he slicked himself up and carefully knelt behind Sherlock on the couch. 

“Come on, John!”

John shook his head and pushed forward, gasping sharply when Sherlock enthusiastically pushed back.


	12. Chapter Twelve

John let himself fall forward, careful not to put his weight on Sherlock’s back, but allowing himself a few seconds to just breathe, fully inside of him. 

“John!” Sherlock complained and John pressed a kiss to the nape of his neck. “Move. Please!”

“Hmm, my pleasure,” John chuckled and began pulling out again only to push back quickly. Sherlock grunted and his hands began to strain against the belt again. 

“Fuck!” Sherlock shouted after a few seconds, squirming but always pushing back to meet John’s movement. 

“Are you okay?” John asked, worried by how loudly Sherlock had cursed. 

In response, Sherlock moaned again. Just to make sure, John slowed down a little and Sherlock turned his head as far as he could and glared at him. “Fuck, don’t stop now!”

John bit his lip. “You didn’t answer,” he explained and Sherlock began rocking against him, clearly attempting to bring himself off. John remembered how turned on he had already been after John had offered to assist him and he understood that Sherlock was truly getting desperate. 

“Do you need me to touch you?” He asked, guessing that Sherlock’s frustration might stem from the neglect of his cock. 

Sherlock shuddered in response and John slipped one hand around his body. The moment his fingers closed around his cock, Sherlock came, cursing breathlessly.


End file.
